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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23474776">Love, Richelle</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/denoii/pseuds/denoii'>denoii</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Nightwing (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Nazi Germany, Alternate Universe - World War II, Diary/Journal, F/F, F/M, Female Dick Grayson, POV First Person, Period-Typical Racism, Romani Dick Grayson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:54:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,966</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23474776</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/denoii/pseuds/denoii</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I live in fear every single day under the Third Reich. My very existence is being threatened, and I'm scared of what will happen if the Gestapo finds me.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson/Original Female Character(s), Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. 1935</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>September 15, 1935</strong>
</p>
<p>Word of the passing of the Nuremberg Laws has reached us. At the news, many friends of mine cheered. Why do they cheer for such hateful things? I heard that there was more trouble in the boy’s camp. I hope these laws aren’t expanded to affect someone like me. I’ve learned to be a good actress, pretending like I’m one of them. I’m not blood like Emilia, and I hope they never find out I am. I despise this, the lies that they force-feed us. Emilia has quickly become my best friend, she’s a brunette with the prettiest green eyes. I admire her greatly. - Love, Richelle</p>
<p>
  <strong>November 26, 1935</strong>
</p>
<p> The law has been expanded to the Romani if I wasn’t afraid before, I certainly am now. I grow more fearful each day of what will happen if they find out. The Gestapo came to talk to us about spotting Jews and ‘Gypsies’ I was scared they would find me. Emilia doesn’t know my secret. I’m really scared, I wish that you hadn’t died. I miss you both dearly. I still have the chain with your wedding rings on it. I wear it out whenever I’m allowed. It’s grueling here, harder than practicing our act, even when I’m exhausted from the day’s events I shock myself awake every few hours to make sure I’ve not been found out. -Love, Richelle</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. 1936</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <strong>July 16, 1936</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p>They arrested 600 Roma in Berlin this morning. They moved them from Berlin to Marzahn, Emilia said that there are armed guards that prevent them from going in and out. Do you think that Haly would have kept us safe? No. He would keep us safe and away from that. I’m 16 now. My superiors and the other girls say I’m not going have any trouble finding a husband, but I don’t think that I want to be a housewife. I want to see the world, travel. I miss the circus for that mostly. We got to see all kinds of places, I wish I had stayed with them now. I wouldn’t be living like this. I miss the trapeze, the wind rushing past my ears, the cheers of the crowd. I think that’s why I keep going because one day this will all be over, and I live life as I please. I think I might ask permission for a trip to see you soon. I have to see how much money I have saved. I hope to see you soon - Love, Richelle</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>July 19, 1936</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>I’ve been granted permission to come visit! I know your burial sites are a long journey, but it’s been so long that I’ve seen them<strike> I nearly forgot what they look like.</strike>  It’s nearly been five years. I try not to think about it, but when the other girls talk of their latest grievance with their parents It’s hard not to be angry. A good wife is never angry. I nearly sound like one of them. They informed me that I’m a teacher for the younger girls now. I know teaching them any drop of rebellion will likely send me to prison, I still firmly believe that most of these girls were never taught anything but hatred, and if they were taught otherwise, the Nuremberg Laws wouldn’t be in place. I really shouldn’t be saying these things somewhere they could be found. Anyway, my train leaves early tomorrow morning. See you soon - Love Richelle</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em> July 20, 1936</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>I’m writing this while sitting between you. A patch of yellow wildflowers has grown around your graves. Daj’s favorite. Sitting here, so far away from the city is peaceful. I can almost hear you singing me lullabies and the feeling of your arms wrapped around me. Part of me wishes that I had been on the trapeze when it snapped, the world is a terrible place. You always told me to always see the good in people, but there are certain people that I don’t think have any good in them. But people like Emilia give me hope that people are still good. Going back after this escapade is going to be miserable, but I’ll do it for you, do it for Emilia. You would have liked her a lot. She reminds me a lot of Raya. I love you- Richelle If the page is tear-stained, with some of the letters blurring together; she would never tell.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. 1937</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <em>March 21, 1937</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>I turn 17 today. It’s also been 5 years since you were murdered. I’m trying not to think about it too much. Emilia surprised me with a gift, a couple of pens, she worried it wasn’t enough. I thought it was more than enough because nobody else had remembered. She’s become a sister to me, we’ve been friends as nearly as long as I’ve been here. She means a lot to me. Otherwise, it’s been pretty quiet, I’m still scared, but I think with Emilia at my side we can do anything. -Love, Richelle</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em> April 30, 1937 </em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>Emilia and I kissed yesterday. It was nice, we agreed we should do it more often. We spent the entire night talking about what we would do once we were allowed to live on our own. We’ll move into an apartment, and work at the daycare together (as is expected of us,) and hope that this is all over sooner rather than later. Once it was over, we’d move to near where you are buried. Although, I don’t know how likely it is that it’s going to be over anytime soon. I’ve been waiting for it to get better since November of 1935, and if anything, it’s only gotten worse. - Love Richelle</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em> October 24, 1937</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>The tensions between Germany and most of Europe. There are talks of war, most people don’t think that it’s going to happen. They gathered us all together to tell us what would happen if there was a war though. That wasn’t very reassuring. Emilia and I have been dating, and I’m really happy. I haven’t felt this way in a long time, and I’m proud of myself for coming this far. I think I love her. We’ve only been ‘good friends’ for a short while, but I’ve been friends with her since I got to camp. I know that you would tell me to follow my heart, so, I will. -Love Richelle</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>October 25, 1937</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p>I told her. I told her this morning on our way to breakfast, we were trailing behind the rest of the group like usual, and I told her. She smiled a most beautiful, radiant smile at me and told me that she loved me too. I can’t stop myself from staring at her. The way her hair catches the sunlight, or how pretty her eyes are with the moon and stars reflecting in them. She has the most amazing personality to go along with it. She’s kind, and she can make me laugh with her bad jokes, she disagrees with the way they’re treating people. I think you would have loved her. -Love Richelle</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. 1938</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <strong>March 13, 1938</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>Hitler has marched troops into Austria. The Austrians welcomed them with open arms, and they faced no resistance. What if he decides to do that to all of Europe, and nowhere is safe anymore? Other than that not much has happened, Emilia and I are patiently waiting for my 18th birthday, so we can move into that apartment that her father has waiting for us. I’m looking forward to it. Her parents have taken quite the liking to me, they don’t know what we actually are of course. However, her mother looks at me with a gleam in her eye that says she knows something more. It makes me kind of nervous. -Love Richelle</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>March 30, 1938</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>Emilia and I have settled nicely into our new home. There are two bedrooms but only for show, I don’t know how much company we’ll be having over, but just in case. The job at the kindergarten is fun nice, the kids seem to like me, but I fear for the day they become old enough to be brainwashed. They’re so kind. Emilia sometimes gets jealous because they like me more. There’s nothing more to it than a joke, but it’s cute to see her like that.<br/>
I wish women could marry because I want the world to know how much I love her. I gave her your ring daj, she adored it. She refuses to take it off now, I wear yours, dade. I wouldn’t exchange this for anything in the world. - Love Richelle</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>May 12, 1938</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>I’ve brought Emilia to meet you. We sat together for hours while I told her about you. I think you all would have gotten along great. We have one night here, before returning to Berlin. The yellow flowers are still here, there are loads more now. We made flower crowns, we left them with you. Emilia did grab a few in hopes of planting them in a pot at home. I told her that you would love her and she started crying. I don’ t think I’ll ever take a husband. -Love Richelle</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>June 17, 1938</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>I went to the shops today, we needed groceries so I volunteered to go out. As I was walking home, I noticed a familiar frame among those that were usually hanging in the square. Emilia had been killed by the Gestapo. I couldn’t help myself from breaking down in public. My love, my Emilia had been killed by Hitler, and his stupid rules. While sobbing at the sight of her hanging figure, I saw her ring glinting in the light. It was a little out of my reach so I had to jump to reach it. I slid it onto my left ring finger, collected my groceries and went home.<br/>
I’m going to miss her dearly. She was my love, and had been killed protecting what she thought was right. -Love Richelle</p><p>Most of the writing on this page is ineligible from the teardrops that caused the ink to blur together. It was ink from a pen that Emilia had bought her the year before.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>June 23, 1938</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>The funeral service was today. It’s one of the most painful things I’ve had to do in a long time. Her parents and I felt an indescribable amount of sadness. Part of me thinks that if I had never met her she might still be alive. But another part of me knows that Emilia was a good person that hadn’t become privy to propaganda the same way her peers had. I can’t write about today’s events any longer -Love Richelle</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>July 6, 1938</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>The last month has been hard. The grief has become manageable. There are little things that still nearly send me back into that depression, like whenever a mother at the kindergarten smells of the same perfume, the same things that set me off when you died. The sound of upbeat jazz that seems to be everywhere haunts me. But I can get out of bed now.</p><p>I met a man today, his name was Slade. He seemed. like he had been taken with me. He proudly wore the military badges he had earned in the last war. He says he’s a high-ranking military officer. It’s a huge risk, but it would be worth it, I wouldn’t be suspected. No Roma would be smart stupid enough to marry one of the men that were in direct opposition to their existence. It’s a good cover. If I get found out, which I won’t– I’ve been entirely too careful for entirely too long to be bad at hiding it- I have a decent cover story. It’s a risk I’m willing to take. - Love Richelle</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If anyone sees any historical inaccuracies please let me know!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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